


Zombies, Really?

by SC182



Category: Smallville
Genre: Crack, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:56:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/SC182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s never zombies until it actually is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombies, Really?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Crack. Spoilers for Smallville, the Timm!verse, and vague references to Marvel Zombies. Written for the Clexmas Halloween challenge.

The sound of heavy footsteps beside his bed caused Clark to open his eyes, which ultimately led to him closing then for a long second before reopening them slowly to blink owlishly at Lex. “Lex--” He began in the same voice he often used for crazy people ready to jump on his cape and cats that looked like they were contemplating trying him out as a scratch post.  
  
The sight before him was just too disorienting to watch from his bed. Clark sat up cautiously looking at Lex and the thought that maybe he shouldn’t have given Lex a key to his apartment to took root.   
  
“Okay, Lex, what’s going on?”   
  
Lex swept his hands back pulling his brown duster away to reveal his carefully constructed ensemble. There was no mistaking the duster was more like a coat, and the tight pants had a look of softness and reliability that even made the suspenders keeping the whole thing together seem dangerous. Clark always knew Lex was a fanboy, all those warrior angel collectibles, comics, dvds, dolls—no, action figures, he’d spare himself Lex’s lecture on the inherent differences between dolls and action figures. God, the powerpoint had been unbearable. Lex loved his sci-fi, but this was a bit much and more than Clark could handle at—his eyes swept over to the bedside clock. At five forty-five in the morning.   
  
“It’s started.” Lex offered in a cool and extremely calm voice.   
  
Common sense should have dictated that Clark be a little more concerned when Lex pulled out a sawed off shotgun.   
  
“Okay.” Clark sighed, now he was really up. Of course, all of those bumps on the head would leave damage Clark just never knew how much. He really should have talked to Jor-el about a long time ago, well before Lex managed to go around the bend. Maybe Clark would be lucky and this was only a mild case of possession or mind swap. Those happened more than one would think.  
  
Ten minutes before he’d been peacefully slumbering after a long day in both offices. Even Superman wanted a few hours of sleep like everyone else. But no. Something about the malicious little red umbers on the clock drew Clark up short. Son of a ….  
  
“Please don’t tell me this is how you’re starting Halloween this year? Because really--” They might have to rethink the whole ‘let’s be lovers’ thing.   
  
Lex holstered his shotgun with a steady hand, proof that Lex had undoubtedly practiced this little charade. “The reason why I’m here is nothing as trite as an early Halloween celebration. I’m here to collect you and truthfully save your life, for that I would expect you to be more grateful.”  
  
Clark counted to ten very slowly in his head and he tried to not picture what Bruce would do in this situation or how Diana would bind Lex up in her lasso and start in on the scary questioning. “You’re saving my life from what?” Clark asked, even if the question felt more like a trap than a solution.   
  
Lex was not amused and it was evident by the downturn of his mouth that he knew that Clark was not taking the situation seriously. “The greatest threat the world has ever seen. The plague that will surely led to the destruction of modern society as we know it. A new era of violence that I’m certainly sure that not even the might of Superman and the Justice League can combat.” Well, when phrased that way, Clark became intrigued and just a wee bit worried, a little more than that, though he wouldn’t tell Lex, because Lex would think he had the upper hand over Clark and develop high drama scenarios and statements against him. Where was he again? Oh right, concerned and just a little bit, a negligible amount really, scared.   
  
“What is it, Lex?”  
  
Lex took a deep breath and looked Clark dead in the eye. “Zombies.”  
  
Zombies?  
  
Cue cricket chirp.   
  
Cue Clark wondering if Bruce still had his apartment bugged and if he’d just heard what Lex said.   
  
He could do this. He could do this. Why couldn’t Lex wake him up with grandiose plans to take over the world by starting an evil consortium with disgruntled Eskimos and mercenary seals and mutated penguins? He’d save that idea for later, in case things returned to normal.   
  
“And you had to dress like Captain Mal Reynolds to fight the zombies?” That question sounded way too crazy for Clark’s liking.   
  
“No,” Lex replied firmly. “One, it was the only thing I had at hand.” Said the man with closet space bigger than Clark’s apartment. “Two, I wanted to be fully prepared.”   
  
“And?” Clark prodded, wanting this insanity to be over. The thought of whacking Lex on the head again flittered across his mind or even the possibility of seduction. If only he could seduce Lex with pie then the last ten years and this conversation would be nonexistent.  
  
“Lastly, I get to be the big damn hero this time.” Lex said with a proud smirk. “In due time, you will understand why, until then let’s use our time to our advantage before the zombie horde grows too ravenous.”   
  
Clark looked longingly at his pillow. This would be a long day indeed.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Lex mentioned going to a safer place, Clark foolishly expected to arrive at the penthouse. Of course, Lex’s take on preparing for the impending zombie apocalypse wouldn’t be that banal.   
  
“Did you really expect us to barricade ourselves in the penthouse or daresay--” Lex shuddered dramatically. “--A mall or a Wal-Mart?” Lex has always been an expert in emotive expression, but the solemn glance he threw Clark’s way was tinged in sympathy spoke more to Lex pitying Clark’s lack of imagination. “We may be on the brink of the Z Wars, but this certainly isn’t Dawn of The Dead.”   
  
Hope and Mercy found the entire situation very amusing. In Clark’s opinion, they would get a kick out of dragging Clark out of bed and bodily forcing him into the back of Lex’s ultra earth friendly mammoth-sized SUV. They’d probably have a blast with a real zombie apocalypse.  
  
Mercy’s lips twisted into a barely restrained smirk as she glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Nice boxers, Kent.  
  
His cheeks colored a furious red and he mentally chewed out the Flash for the kitschy Flash pajama pants. Hope looked equally as pleased, considering she was the one who insisted on securing in the SUV after Lex said he was worried about Clark’s potentially detrimental denial of the situation, which explained why he was trussed up like a member of a chain gang. The lack of searing pain immediately clued him into the small blessing that no kryptonite was present, just good old pain in the butt magic. It didn’t explain why he was virtually sitting on Lex’s lap or the hand that was languorously stroking his hair.  
  
“Lex.”  
  
“Hmm?” Lex mused, his gaze directed towards the semi-empty streets, still sleepy with early morning traffic. “Don’t distract me, Clark? Zombie stalking is serious business.”   
  
“But--”  
  
“Do I need to sedate him, sir? He sounds a little hysterical?” Mercy asked with a dark mirth in her voice.   
  
_Hysterical, what?_  
  
Mercy, or Hope for that matter, would love to jab him with sharp pointy objects tipped with kryptonite.  
  
The stroking continued with the same gentle sweeps that would cause even the most cantankerous cat to purr. And Clark did not purr. He wouldn’t give Lex the satisfaction. But…if those long lean fingers continued to massage his scalp, he might be more amendable to believing Lex’s postulation that the zombie plague was upon them.   
  
Something about that thought triggered Clark’s mind to the fact that his observation skills pretty much sucked at the dust crack of dawn. He hadn’t even asked where Lex had seen these supposed zombies or paid attention to who Hope and Mercy were supposed to be. Granted neither of them were wearing their signature black, they still looked very dangerous.   
  
Clark opened his mouth to ask, but Hope cut him off. “I’ll save you the trouble, Big Blue. I’m Zoe and she’s Xena Warrior Princess.”   
  
Wow, okay. Clark had no response, except wondering if their weapons were as authentic as their costumes. “Yes, her sword and chakram are sharp and I carry really big guns. Don’t worry the boss wants you kept safe during the zom-pocalyspe.”  
  
He could pinpoint the source of Lex’s delusions, but Hope and Mercy had always seemed so infallible, incoercible—by far, the best bodyguards Lex had ever had; but now, they too had suffered from serious head-meets-solid-impact injuries or they were really dedicated to being   
loyal to the whims of their boss.   
  
Could it get any worse?  
  


* * *

  
  
Apparently, it could.  
  
Their place of refuge was Clark’s third guess of probable places Lex would use to hide out from the yet unseen swarm of walking dead. It also brought about another ensemble change for Lex. After being frog marched to the study, which had been efficiently converted to a communications and strategy center, Clark considered this to be the most elaborate ruse Lex had ever constructed.   
  
When Lex returned to the study, he wasn’t alone. Definitely not alone. Hope and Mercy had kept Clark under guard, but at Lex’s back stood Chloe and his mother.  
  
Clark dropped his head into his open hands; just completely fed up with the entire wackiness that had allowed him to be kidnapped. “What are…Chloe, Mom, what are you doing here?”  
  
Chloe didn’t spare him a second glance as she stepped past him and took a position in front of the media console. “I’d think it would be pretty obvious, Clark. We’re going to try to save the world from zombies.”  
  
 _Don’t think about what Bruce would say. Don’t think about what Bruce would say…Don’t think…._ Clark internally chanted.   
  
Chloe was done up in a seriously wicked leather bodysuit. He wouldn’t to ask whether she was Catwoman. That might be like pouring salt in a wound or replacing good catnip with old cheese. “And who are you supposed to be?”  
  
“Duh, Aeon Flux.”  
  
Right.  
  
Clark had no idea who that was.   
  
He should have found comfort with his mother sitting beside him, but given that he was still pretty strapped down, he was forced to become resigned to his situation and realized that his mother was probably giving into Lex’s delusion.  
  
“Mom, please tell me that this is a Halloween prank or….” Clark’s mind zipped through all possible explanation and divided them into categories of logical and utterly batshit crazy. The latter totally overwhelmed the former. “Tell me this is payback for laughing of Lex’s proposal?”  
  
His mother’s eyes lit up. Lex and proposal were red flag words to her, as she’d been after Clark to get over his stubbornness and see Lex for whom and what he really was. In Marta Kent’s eyes, that accounted for great son-in-law potential.   
  
Martha’s attention was diverted to Lex, who was now dressed in ridiculous assortment of combat gear, down to the boots and ear piece. He looked dangerous and unsurprisingly very, very sexy. “Lex, you didn’t tell me you proposed?” She asked, with the slightest bit of hurt in her voice.   
  
Lex managed to give in to the subtle chastisement ala Martha Kent. “Well, as you know Clark and I have only recently reestablished our friendship--” The chortling from dangerous outfitted trio in the back was not in the least inconspicuous. “I was working on a plan to thoroughly woo Clark into my arms that would have required much help on your part, as no good Clark Campaign could be achieved without the use of your second to none baked goods.”   
  
Lex never had a problem buttering up his mom.   
  
His mother was giving Lex that look, the one that said she would soon be breaking speed limits of her own to hug him, and of course, Lex would let her. “But he said he dismissed it?”  
  
“Yes, sadly.” Then four glares were turned Clark’s way. He wouldn’t feel bad or he’d try not to feel bad, but it was hard to take one’s former arch nemesis’ marriage proposal seriously after said ex-arch nemesis threatened to burn all of one’s flannel, primary colored kryptonian dress paraphernalia, and call the INS on all non-earth or trans-dimensional members of the league. To Clark, all of Lex’s threats had seemed more like overly enthusiastic foreplay.   
  
Though Lex would happen to be serious in that one occasion.   
  
Lex stepped towards Clark. His boots sounded unusually heavy on the study’s wooden floors, but Lex didn’t look in the least discomforted by them. “I had planned to redouble my efforts but given circumstances have forced me to place some plans ahead of schedule.”  
  
He kneeled before Clark, taking Clark’s shackled hands into his. Not for the first time, Clark noticed just how stormy Lex’s eyes were, and how beautiful they shone without the light of megalomania perturbing their calm balance.   
  
Clark was also aware that he was the center of attention to Chloe, Hope, Mercy, and his mother, who he assumed was dressed as Ripley for Alien. The big gun with the flame thrower action pump kinda clued him in when Mercy handed it over rather jauntily to his mother. He would rather have to take a face full of the Joker’s laughing gas than have his mother be corrupted by Hope and Mercy.   
  
“Clark, focus.” Lex drew Clark’s eyes to forcibly meet his. Lex took at deep breath and released it slowly. “ Come with me if you want to live?”  
  
 _Wait…_  
  
“What?”  
  
“I said ‘Come with me with me if you want to live’.”   
  
“But I’m already here with you.” Duh.  
  
Martha patted Clark’s arm. “He’s asking you to marry him.” She translated. His mother had always been fluent in Lexian.  
  
“Lex, that’s not a marriage proposal. That’s a quote from the Terminator and are you…dressed like John Connor?” He and Lex had had many conversations about the franchise, in particular how it was imperative to keep Brainiac from ever discovering the premise and considering time travel. That in itself could get very nasty. The fourth film was by far the weakest, but it had its suitably good moments.   
  
Lex pulled his sullen face.“I risked a lot to save you, so a little gratitude would be nice.”  
  
Clark quirked a brow in response. A gesture he’d clearly adopted from Lex after so many years. _Really?_  
  
“He did,” Chloe replied. Her eyes were solely focused on the monitors, but a look of concern was growing across her features. “Lex, I think it’s almost time.”  
  
“Okay, but first, you and I are meant to be the last two standing. You are my best adversary, my best friend, and the one person I have always cared deeply enough about to not kill.” A chorus of delighted coos resounded around them like applause. “Biblical Apocalypse, Apocalypse-Apokolips, or Zombie Apocalypse—you and I are meant to ride it out, fight it, and bring the world back to a better place. We may disagree on how we do that, but we will do it.”   
  
“I don’t know what to say to that, Lex.” In truth, he didn’t. Lex was never transparent with his feelings outside of the angry ones or those ignited by passion. On the occasions when he was, Lex was always capable of bringing Clark up short.  
  
“You can stop being stubborn by saying ‘yes’, then you can be the Eve to my morally ambiguous Adam.”   
  
_Do not think of Batman._ “Lex--” He warned.  
  
“I’m prepared for all facets of our extended siege by the undead. I’ve calculated food, water, ammunition, and utility usage rates. We shall be well prepared for many years to come. What I have calculated to be very fun and fruitful will be our repopulation efforts.” Lex couldn’t have looked more lecherous if he tried.   
  
Martha, Hope, and Mercy approved.  
  
Clark was almost one hundred percent certain that they wouldn’t be spawning the old fashion way unless Jor-el had forgotten to mention something extremely important to him.   
  
Chloe stepped away from the computers. “As much as I hate to admit it, the big show is about to touch down.”  
  
Lex again graced Clark with his full attention. “I’m waiting for an answer.”  
  
Clark was pretty sure answering incorrectly would get him whacked a few times with Mercy’s sword, which seemed to glow just the faintest shade of blue as she polished it. Magic sword was definitely bad for Clark and that gleam in her eye said she was ready to use it.   
  
“Um…yes.”   
  
There was applause, hugs followed by kisses from his mom and the removal of his shackles by Hope and Mercy, who seemed pretty pissed that he hadn’t indulged them in needing to test their uber-realistic weaponry.   
  
“Come, the invasion of the dead begins!”  
  
Clark really hoped Lex was out of euphemisms for the zombie apocalypse, because he couldn’t take it anymore.   
  


* * *

  
  
They watched the monitors as the skies above Metropolis began to rumble and snap with the crackle of lightning. It began with a light in the sky and spread with the fall of flaming meteors from space. Like any emergency the League rushed out to face it head on. Clark felt like he should have been there with them.   
  
Then it was there. It wasn’t people, dead and arisen. It was them. It was the League that was tearing world asunder and consuming the world down to the marrow in the bones.   
  
What could he say other than a whispered “Lex.”  
  
“I always told you that League of yours was a bad idea.”   
  
Clark sighed. “I don’t think this is the time to gloat.” Clark’s head snapped around in a double take.”Are you Han Solo now?”  
  
“When planning to save the world and maybe even the galaxy, who else would I be?” A lone hand wandered up Clark’s back that was still naked at this point. It was a comforting gesture that offered a physical reprieve despite the carnage on the screens. “And Chloe is definitely Luke.”   
  
“Then who am I?” Clark asked incredulous, after seeing Ollie and Dinah take down an entire police squadron and chomp down mercilessly on their flesh.   
  
Lex pressed against him and rattled his chains. “Why Leia, of course.”   
  
“It’s not all bad, Clark. Who else would find love during zombiepolooza? We’ll make it through this and save humanity? I’m not sure about your friends though.”  
  
“Could you have told someone, I don’t know like the government, that a zombie invasion was coming?”   
  
“That sounds absolutely ludicrous. Moreover, if the government is too lazy to keep an eye on other dimensions then only they can be blamed for their negligence. Really, Clark, just really.”   
  
The massacre on screen was too much. “I should be out there.”  
  
“No, you shouldn’t. If you became infected--”Lex paused, considering his next words. “Then we really wouldn’t have a chance, would we? And then I would in all likelihood do something you would deem extreme and wrong.”  
  
Clark loathed to admit it, but Lex had a point, and Lex and legitimate points were also sexy. “Okay, so you’re probably right. Do you think you can cure them?”  
  
“Possibly, though I have enough nano-tech Boomsticks to knock just about any zombie or infected cannibal out of existence or maybe just to Apokolips.”  
  
There was no love lost for Darkseid, but zombies of any kind posed a threat to life everywhere. “I’ll help you and marry you, though I make one request.”   
  
Lex folded his arms over his chest.“As long as it is within reason.” He said nonplussed.  
  
After everything Clark had been subjected to over the course of the morning, his only answer was a staunch. “Bite me.”  
  
Lex shone bright with cheeky amusement. “Very apropos at the moment, though I like the suggestion for later.” That smirk would be the death of him.   
  
“You would.” Clark sighed. “Back to what I want.”  
  
“Whatever you want, dear.”  
  
Not even a glare promising third degree burns could stop Lex from attaching himself to Clark like limpet or the amused cackles of their audience. “We honeymoon after we stop the Army of Darkness.”  
  
“As you wish.”   
  
Their kiss was everything a kiss should be, despite the insistent directions and enamored sighing of their female entourage. Clark had faced many things, but a zombie apocalypse with Lex was one of the few he’d never expected.   
  
Clark broke the kiss, inching just out of reach of Lex’s lips. “Is that your gun or are you happy to see me?”  
  
Lex grabbed the back of his head and returned Clark’s lips to where they were most needed. “That’s definitely my Boomstick.”   
  
The End


End file.
